


Pidge's Five Foolproof Steps to Winning the Person of Your Dreams

by vulcanhighblood



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dorks in Love, F/M, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Hunk and pidge fail basic communication, Hunk just wanted to spend time with pidge he didnt ask for this, Hunk/Lance mention, Other, Pidge is not as observant as they think they are, and also even more stubborn, have pity on these two children, its not actually Hunk/Lance at all Pidge is just really confused, these two are so clueless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-09 04:49:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7787380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulcanhighblood/pseuds/vulcanhighblood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hunk comes to Pidge for some advice on how to get closer to his secret crush. Pidge <em>instantly</em> decides that this "secret" crush must be Lance. While acting as wingman to Hunk's completely ineffectual advances, Pidge   slowly develops feelings for Hunk. But Hunk is in love with Lance! ...isn't he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOW TO WRITE FANFIC: be awake at 4AM. Everything sounds like a good idea at 4AM.
> 
> i am so sorry

“Hey Pidge?” Hunk was doing that thing again, the thing he did when he was nervous, where he held his hands close together at chest-height and lightly tapped the ends of his fingers together, like two hand puppets exchanging swift kisses. “I need your help with something.”

“Sure thing,” Pidge said amiably, scooting away from their programming to give Hunk their full attention. 

“Well, actually, you might not want to agree until you hear what I have to say first,” Hunk said nervously, voice coming out louder than he'd intended due to nerves. He covered his mouth lightly with the fingertips of his right hand, a small “eep” escaping as he did so. 

“I'm sure it's fine, just tell me,” Pidge said.

“Okay, well, you remember that time I had a crush on Kevin and Lance told me to send him anonymous love notes and you said that was ridiculous and you had a foolproof five-step method and Lance kind of laughed about it then asked what the steps were and you said your secret was too good for the likes of him?” Hunk took a big breath, he'd said the whole thing all at once and was feeling a little lightheaded from lack of oxygen. Also he was breathing really hard. Nerves. 

Pidge was slowly nodding, putting the pieces together. “Why do you bring this up now?” Pidge asked, already 90% certain of the answer. 

“Well,” Hunk said awkwardly, then paused, flushing. “I kind of realized recently I have a crush on someone, and I don't know how to, y’know, communicate that in a way that would possibly improve my odds,” Hunk scratched at the back of his neck, unable to meet Pidge’s gaze in his discomfort. 

"Is it Shay?" Pidge asked blandly.

Hunk's face twisted in an expression of dismay. " _No,_ she's a  _friend_ , a very  _good_ friend. But not... I don't think of her like that!" Hunk said defensively, "And honestly I'm tired of you all asking me that every time someone brings up her, or the balmera, or..." Hunk huffed.

Pidge raised their hands in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, okay, forget I said anything about that," they said. "In that case... well, before I go over the steps, I usually ask how well you know the person."

Hunk blanched slightly. "But-"

"But," Pidge interrupted, "in terms of actual people that you've been interacting with  _recently_ , as you put it, there aren't all that many options.  _Especially now that Shay's off the table_ ," Pidge added in an undertone.

Hunk scowled. "I heard that."

Pidge waved aside his complaint,  already mentally tallying the possible targets of Hunk’s crush. Shiro? Allura? Keith? Lance? ...Coran?! “Anyway, I can teach you my foolproof method - as long as you  _ promise _ not to tell Lance the steps, that is.” 

Hunk nodded quickly. "It's not my information to share," he said sincerely. "I wouldn't want to betray your trust."

Pidge felt a small blossom of warmth at that, Hunk always seemed to know exactly how to say things in a way that made other people feel better about themselves. Hunk valued their trust. That felt nice, knowing they were valued... With a small smile, Pidge turned back to the computer. Several rapid keystrokes, swipes, and taps later, Pidge brought up a holographic display with a presentation. In big block letters the title read, “PIDGE’S FIVE FOOLPROOF STEPS TO WINNING THE PERSON OF YOUR DREAMS”.

Hunk's eyes were as wide as dinner plates. “Wow, it looks so professional!” he said, staring unblinkingly at the projection. 

Pidge preened a little at the praise, before bringing the first step onto the screen. 

“STEP 1:” it read, “EXPRESS AN INTEREST IN THEM AND THEIR INTERESTS.” Pidge turned to Hunk to see what he thought of the first step.

Hunk was staring at Pidge like they were a wizard. “When did you have time to make this presentation?” he asked, completely missing the point of the first step in his hang-up over a minor detail. “Did you do all this right now?”

Pidge wished the answer could have been yes, but actually they’d put the presentation together out of sheer boredom and petty amusement several weeks previous. “I made it a few weeks ago in the occasion that something like this might happen,” Pidge fudged, liking this explanation rather better than the real reason. 

Hunk’s eyes seemed to sparkle with admiration. “That's great!” he said, before his eyes refocused, taking in the words themselves. His lips moved slightly as he silently read it over once or twice. He glanced up at Pidge, a question in his gaze. “What exactly does ‘express an interest in them and their interests’  _ mean _ _?_ " He asked Pidge, worrying that he might somehow screw up something as simple as showing interest. "Do I just go up to them and be like ‘hey I'm interested in you’?” Hunk looked at Pidge helplessly. 

“Well  _ obviously _ there's a bit more to it than that,” Pidge said. 

“ _ Maybe not obvious to everyone,”  _ Hunk muttered softly under his breath.

Pidge leveled a look in his direction, golden eyes snapping dangerously. “What was that?”

Hunk flinched. “Oh, nothing…” he said faintly.

Pidge continued. “You want to  _ invest _ in them. Spend time with them, find out what they enjoy doing and try to join in.”

“So, okay, that makes sense and all but,” Hunk puffed air between slightly pouted lips, looking worried. “How much attention is too much attention, you know? I mean, what if you  _ already _ spend a lot of time with them?”

Pidge didn't want to breach Hunk’s trust, really, they didn't. But there was only really one paladin that Hunk seemed intentional about making extra time for. “Oh my god, it's  _ Lance? _ ” Pidge sputtered. 

Hunk’s face paled as he protested, “No, that's not, I never said-!”

Oh, denial. That was adorable. As if Pidge couldn't tell when the rule of "methinks the lady doth protest too much" was at play...  “It _is_ Lance!” Pidge wasn't sure whether to cackle or facepalm. “I mean sure, he's somewhat conventionally attractive, I  _ guess _ , and you two are pretty close…” Pidge grinned at the thought. Hunk and Lance. It worked, somehow. “Don't worry, Hunk! Your secret is safe with me!” Pidge laid a hand on one of Hunk’s drooping shoulders. “And you can focus on Lance’s  _ other _ interests. So don't stress about trying to show an interest in flying!”

“Oh, great,” Hunk said, still sounding displeased, bordering on miserable.

“I have an idea!” Pidge said. “I'll be your wingman!”

“You'll  _ what _ ?” Hunk squeaked.

“I'll help you win Lance’s heart!” Pidge explained. “Trust me, with me on your side, the two of you will be together in  _ no time _ .”

“Oh, wow, thanks Pidge, I, uh, really appreciate the help,” Hunk said weakly. 

“Just you wait,” Pidge promised excitedly. “Five steps. Five days, and he’s yours.”

Hunk smiled weakly. “That sounds...great.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL THIS WAS A WIP I DIDN'T INTEND TO HAPPEN BUT HERE IT IS I HOPE YOU ENJOY  
> if you did enjoy please feel free to leave a comment, kudos, etc. I love hearing from my readers and any and all feedback is appreciated! :D


	2. Step One: Express an Interest in Them and Their Interests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Step one does not go as Pidge expected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> choo-choo all aboard the feels train
> 
> what, you thought this was going to be mindless fluff? my bad...

Pidge clapped their hands together. “Well, let's get started,” they announced.

“Right _now_?” Hunk protested. “As in, right away?”

Pidge gave Hunk a disappointed look, shaking their head. “Why wouldn't we start right away?”

Hunk shrugged awkwardly, muttering something under his breath about how he wasn't sure he was ready.

“Hunk,” Pidge sighed, “You've known Lance for _how long_? If you aren’t ready now, you’ll _never_ be ready! Face it, you _need_ my help.”

Hunk didn’t seem able to look Pidge in the eye, casting his gaze about the room in a desperate attempt to look absolutely anywhere else. “Oh yeah,” he said under his breath. “of course I need your help, I don't know what I was thinking,” he muttered this last bit with uncharacteristic bitterness.

He still wouldn’t look Pidge in the eye. Pidge felt concern constricting their chest, their guts churning anxiously. This wasn’t like Hunk at all. What was wrong? Pidge wracked their brain, trying to discern where things had derailed. Had Pidge said something? Done something? They weren’t known for their tact, it was entirely possible that they’d said or done something and unintentionally hurt him. In times like these, Pidge had learned, it was best to just ask what they’d done wrong, since second-guessing their every action was essentially a useless endeavor, and took too long. “Hunk?” Pidge spoke softly, trying not to sound accusatory. “Is something wrong?”

Hunk, still avoiding eye contact, ran a hand through his hair, sighing heavily. “Nah, I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting you to think I was talking about Lance,” he explained, speaking to the corner of the room. “It's just…” his hand shifted from scrubbing at his scalp to rest gently on the back of his neck as he sheepishly made eye contact with Pidge. He was flushed, his face taking on a decidedly reddish tint, and his features were strained. “It's a little awkward for me, I guess.”

Everything clicked into place in that moment.“Oh!” Pidge felt like a crushing weight of knowledge had just collided with their shoulders. Of _course_ Hunk was upset! Hunk had been trying to keep the crush anonymous! Hunk hadn’t wanted anyone to _know_ who he liked! And Pidge had not only outed his crush, they’d also _laughed_. They’d not only spoken aloud something that Hunk did not want to be discussed, they’d also mocked his probably very intimate feelings, and they’d dismissed the entire exchange as totally irrelevant! Of _course_ he was upset! Anyone would be! Pidge felt their own face begin to burn, probably dark enough to rival Hunk’s blush. Pidge immediately tried to apologize. “I'm so sorry, Hunk, I didn't think -” Pidge cut off, not sure where they were going with that, but knowing that making the apology about them rather than about Hunk was a really terrible way to apologize. “I won't say his name again,” Pidge promised. They felt a sudden spark of excitement, and they were momentarily derailed from their apology by a burst of inspiration. “Oh! We should give him a codename!”

Hunk blinked in confusion, feeling like he’d just experienced the emotional equivalent of whiplash, considering how quickly Pidge had gone from self-assured to contrite, and right back to self-assured. “A codename…?” He repeated, confused. “What kind of codename?” he asked slowly.

Pidge was happy to see that Hunk seemed less sullen once that Pidge had acknowledged their mistake, but he was still not quite back to his sunny self.  Pidge felt bad for ignoring his (obvious, upon further consideration) desire to keep the crush anonymous. However, they also knew that they couldn’t really do anythign more about it now, and so they settled for trying to shift the topic away from their faux pas and into an area of expertise - making Hunk laugh.  “How about something like ‘eagle two’?” Pidge suggested casually, before glancing slyly at Hunk.  “Or maybe... ‘the tailor’.”

Hunk sniggered a little at that, and Pidge felt a flush of victory, proud that they had been able to atl least bring a smile, however small, back to his face.  

Hunk’s smile faded a moment later, though. “Do we really need a codename?” Hunk asked, making a face. “I mean, wouldn't that just be _more_ suspicious?”

He had a point. “Maybe, but where's the fun in _that_?” Pidge answered. That was what love was all about! Spontaneity, excitement, joy, thrill, risk… _fun_!

Hunk seemed less than convinced. “Oh, right,” Hunk chuckled nervously, “Fun.” He didn’t look like he thought it would be fun at all. “Trying to find the right moment to bare your soul before a person who may or may not feel the same way about you sounds like a _lot_ of fun to me,” he added in an undertone. Although Pidge was widely considered to be the master of sarcasm, in that moment, Hunk’s sarcasm gave Pidge’s a run for its money.

“It _will_ be fun!” Pidge insisted, “Because you don’t even have to worry about all that for _awhile_ yet.” Pidge shrugged. “Confession is step five.”

Hunk did not take this as well as Pidge had expected. “ _Confession_?” Hunk yelped. “Will we be committing _crimes?!”_

“No, not-” Pidge slapped an open palm to their forehead, narrowly missing their glasses. “Like, confessing your _feelings_.”

Hunk seemed to relax a fraction, before tensing again, hands hovering near his chin. “Oh man, I was kind of hoping it wasn’t any of the steps,” he said after a moment, voice quavering. “I just...I don't know if I'm ready for that, Pidge.” Hunk’s voice dropped to a near-whisper. “I was just looking for some advice, not a five-step program,” he said, “I’m not… good enough. At any of this.”

“Come _on,_ Hunk! Give yourself more credit,” Pidge argued, never one to allow a friend to be down on themselves. Unless it was Lance. If anyone needed to take their ego down a few notches, it was Lance. Hunk, on the other hand, could definitely stand to boost his ego a bit more, and Pidge was determined to do their part. “You’re kind, strong, smart, smell nice…”

Hunk looked at Pidge strangely at the last one. “You notice how I _smell_ ?” he asked, sounding confused and surprisingly hopeful. Pidge didn’t pick up on why this might be important, too busy tying to assure Hunk that he could _definitely_ woo Lance.

“Sure, you and I work in close proximity, and unlike Lance, you don’t smell like you bathe in body spray on a daily basis.” Pidge scowled. “Please tell me once you start dating that you’re not going to start smelling like him, I don’t think my nose would forgive me.”

“I’ll...try… not to?” Hunk said hesitantly, like he wasn’t sure what the right response to that was.

“Anyway, if Lance knows what’s good for him, there’s no _way_ he could turn you down!” Pidge declared grandly. “Besides, I see the way you look at him!” Pidge elbowed Hunk affectionately, wiggling their eyebrows for good measure.

“You _do?_ ” Hunk looked genuinely baffled at this revelation. “Look at him like _what?_ ” He asked then, sounding almost distressed.

Pidge sighed, “Hunk, it's so _obvious_ how you feel about him _._ You're always hugging him-”

“Friends give friends hugs,” Hug said defensively, “I hug _you_ … sometimes…”

Pidge raised an eyebrow. “But not nearly as often.”

“Well yeah, but that's because Lance _likes_ hugs, and you usually just _tolerate_ them!” Hunk argued.

Pidge waved the comment aside dismissively. “You make him special food all the time-”

“He's _homesick_ ,” Hunk replied, “and it helps him feel less alone!” He gestured helplessly. “I would make you special food too if you ever said anything about wanting something in particular!”

“But Lance didn't even have to _say_ anything, you just _knew,_ ” Pidge countered.

“That's just because we've been friends for such a long time!” Hunk argued.

Pidge wanted to counter that argument too, but decided to drop it instead.  Hunk was starting to go from flustered to genuinely upset and that hadn't been Pidge’s intent when she'd pointed out how _painfully obvious_ Hunk was about his affection. “That's a fair point,” Pidge said, sounding insincere to the point of near-insult.  

Hunk made a face. “I don't want to argue,” he said, “I just… wanted some tips.”

“I'm going to give you something _better_ than tips!” Pidge insisted. “Now let's go find Lance and practice step one.”

Hunk's shoulders slumped a little. “Only if you come with me,” he said, after it became clear his pouty face wasn't going to change Pidge’s mind.

“I will come,” Pidge agreed, “But it's still up to you to show interest in his interests.”

Hunk nodded, readying his game face. He looked ready to take on a squad of Galra soldiers. Pidge decided that working on Hunk’s total lack of a poker face in situations like these would be something to work on later, and they headed out.

* * *

It took them a little while to find Lance. He was sitting in a tucked-away corner watching the stars and listening to music. Pidge probably never would have found him, but it only took Hunk about three attempts, and none of the places Hunk had checked would have made Pidge’s list of “top ten most likely places to find Lance”. Pidge knew that Hunk was a good friend and confidant of Lance’s, but it was still surprising to realize just how much Hunk seemed to know about Lance.

After a few pointed elbow jabs and wide-eyed glances that screamed “ _go sit down next to him!”_ Hunk finally flopped down next to Lance, gripping Pidge’s elbow tightly and tugging them down next to him. There really wasn't room for three in the space, but Hunk had a tight grip on Pidge’s arm, so rather than fight it, Pidge molded into the space, and Hunk shifted his grip, his arm snaking around Pidge’s waist, pulling Pidge flush against his side.

Pidge felt his steady breaths coming in and out, the softness of his belly contrasting with the hardness in the arm that held Pidge tightly at his side.

Lance pulled one of his headphones away from his ear, raising an inquisitive eyebrow in Hunk’s direction, saying nothing.

“Watcha listening to?” Hunk asked. He didn't sound particularly nervous, although Pidge felt his arm tremble a little.

Lance leaned forward to look across Hunk, the eyebrow coming back down onto a confused frown. “Why is Pidge here?” he asked Hunk.

“Team bonding,” Hunk _obviously_ lied, and Lance obviously didn't buy it for a second.

To Pidge's surprise, Lance shrugged, leaning back and settling his head on Hunk’s shoulder, staring back out the viewport into wide, nearly-empty space. “So _how_ exactly are we doing this whole team bonding thing?” Lance asked after a moment, stealing a glance at Hunk before returning his gaze to the stars.

“Oh, just talking about whatever you're interested in talking about,” Hunk said easily, and while that hadn't been Pidge’s exact instruction, they couldn't argue with the results Hunk was getting. Lance seemed comfortable, and he leaned back against Hunk.

For upwards of a minute, they sat in silence, Hunk holding both of them tight against him like either of them might float away at a moment's notice.

Finally, Lance shifted slightly, making a small noise in his throat. “I… I still miss home a lot,” Lance half-whispered.

Pidge felt Hunk’s arm tighten a little as he hugged Lance tightly with his other arm. Pidge was drawn in a bit closer by the action, and was surprisingly okay with it. Hunk was soft and warm and secure and - for Lance, at least - felt a lot like _home_.

“I know you do,” Hunk whispered to Lance. “It's okay.”

Somehow, Hunk giving Lance his blessing to miss home seemed to ease a lot of the tension in his body, and Lance relaxed into Hunk’s one-armed embrace, still watching the stars, almost listlessly. “You think it's out there?” He asked quietly. “Earth, I mean,” he added a moment later.

“Of course it is,” Hunk said. “Although I gotta be honest, I was never very good at reading star charts, so I have no idea where we should be looking.”

Lance laughed a little at that, though the peals rang with a hint of hysterics. “I'm pretty good at reading star charts, but these aren't on any of ours,” he said, gesturing expansively at the viewport. “I don't even  know which way to go to find something we _have_ charted.”

Hunk rubbed Lance’s shoulder, and Lance hid his face in the collar of Hunk's vest. “I'm so tired,” he whispered, “I wanna go home.”

Hunk leaned his head against Lance’s. “We will,” he said, repeating himself, softer the second time, “we will.”

“Promise?” Lance’s voice was muffled by Hunk’s vest.

“Promise,” Hunk said, and lapsed into silence. The three of them remained there, wrapped in Hunk’s embrace, watching the stars drift by until Hunk had to go prepare dinner.

Pidge hadn't expected step one to be anything like that, but they'd enjoyed it rather more than they had expected. Even an hour later, Pidge could still feel the phantom of Hunk’s arm wrapped around them, holding them securely. It felt warm and safe. Pidge secretly hoped Hunk would find occasion to hold them like that again sometime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading, you guys! I really appreciate all the comments I got on the first chapter, and I hope that the upcoming chapters live up to your expectations! Sorry this chapter was so short, it was just the best place to break, considering each chapter will be focusing on an individual step. I'd like to say the fic will have six chapters but since I'm not 100 percent certain of that, I'm going to keep it at 2/? for the moment.  
> Thanks so much for reading! You know the drill, if you say something in the comments I'll gladly say something back! :D I'm looking forward to hearing from you!


	3. Step Two: Be Intentional and Genuine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge has an epiphany, too late.

The next day dawned bright and early, and Pidge was not happy to see it. They'd never been much of a morning person, and even the sunny smile and cheery “good morning” from Hunk as he’d handed Pidge a steaming cup of (alien substitute) coffee had done little to improve their foul mood. After some much-needed caffeine, however, the day was starting to look a bit better.

“So,” Hunk said, once Pidge’s expression had shifted from ‘murderous’ to ‘slightly peeved’, “Do we move on to step two today? Or do I need to keep working on step one?”

Remembering the way Hunk’s arms had encircled them, and how comfortable and _nice_ it had been, Pidge was tempted to say “no”. But this wasn't about Pidge, this was about helping Hunk, and so Pidge answered quickly, “I can honestly say I have never before witnessed such a perfectly executed step one firsthand.”

Hunk felt a grin bloom across his features at the praise. “That means a lot, coming from you,” he said. He turned to look at some alien foods that they'd picked up recently, sniffing an egg-looking one delicately before schooling his expression into an impressive poker face and gently placing the egg-thing as far away from him as possible. He picked up some sort of meat then, dangling it from his fingertips and turning it slowly. “So, what's step two?” he asked, setting the meat down after sniffing it and looking pleasantly surprised.

“Be intentional and genuine,” Pidge replied.

Hunk, who had located a skillet of sorts and was seeking a heat source, frowned a little.  “Intentional and genuine?” he repeated, flicking a switch and setting the skillet down on the flat surface before retrieving the meat and cutting it in thick slabs. “Isn't that how you're supposed to be, like, all the time?”

_If only it were as easy for some of us as it seems to be for you,_ Pidge thought ruefully.

“What are you making?” Pidge gracefully sidestepped Hunk’s rhetorical question, sipping at the last few dregs of their alien coffee.

Hunk tilted his head, eyeing the meat he’d just set in the skillet to sizzle and crackle.

“I guess…” Hunk’s gaze drifted across the kitchen, alighting on something else, and his face brightened. “Spam musubi… extraterrestrial style?” Hunk said uncertainly, indicating the meat in the pan before pointing to a grain that he had only just learned made a decent rice substitute, if a bit gluey. “You want one?” he asked.

“If you're making extra,” Pidge said. “Just one, I’m not that hungry.”

Hunk nodded to acknowledge he’d heard, flipping the spamlike meat in the pan, watching it sizzle for a moment before glancing at Pidge. “You can never eat just one spam musubi,” he warned, a twinkle in his eye.

“I'm sure I'll manage,” Pidge grinned.

“Suit yourself,” Hunk replied, extricating the fried meat from the pan and washing his hands before patting some of the pseudo-rice into a sticky ball, flattening a piece of alien spam on top and wrapping it with a strand of a strange green leafy vegetable that grew on land but tasted surprisingly similar to laver. He packed a few more, wrapping them in a sort of Altean cling film as he went, stacking them on a plate.

Pidge watched Hunk’s broad hands work deftly with the ingredients, the two of them lapsing into a companionable silence broken only by the soft sounds of Hunk wrapping the musubi. After about a minute of this, Hunk glanced at Pidge. “I meant it, you know,” he said, and Pidge had _no idea_ what he was talking about.

“Meant what?” Pidge asked, trying to sound casual rather than completely lost.

“If you ever want something, y’know, from home, and if there's anything I can do to help…” Hunk shrugged and ducked his head, suddenly finding the musubi very interesting. “I wasn't just making an excuse,” he explained, wrapping and re-wrapping the last musubi. “And I don't know if I ever actually told you. But I would. All you gotta do is ask.”

“I know,” Pidge said, and while this might sound like a strange response, it was _true_ . Hunk didn't have to say it outright because that's who he _was_ . “You're a good friend,” Pidge explained. “Of course I know that you would help me in whatever way you could.” Pidge smirked then. “Why do you think I agreed to help _you?_ ”

Hunk’s face reddened. “Oh, okay, wow,” he said somewhat inarticulately, fumbling the final musubi so it landed on the counter with a dull “thwap”.  Pidge couldn't help but smile a little when Hunk gave the musubi a disappointed look as if it were a child caught writing on the wall with a crayon. He added it to the pile, scooting the plate over to Pidge. “Take your pick,” he offered with a grin.

Pidge took one, then, after a moment's hesitation, took a second. They scooted the plate back towards Hunk. “Thanks,” Pidge said.

Hunk smiled sunnily, taking five musubi for himself before putting the remaining pile into a cold storage device that basically functioned as an Altean fridge. While in the fridge, he pulled out a pitcher of citrus juice he'd squeezed the day before, offering a glass to Pidge, who accepted the juice with a small nod.

“So,” Hunk said, unwrapping his musubi and sitting down across from Pidge, “how is step two any different from step one?” he shrugged a little sheepishly. “If I'm being honest, I don't see how this is different from expressing interest.”

Pidge took a bite of musubi. It was, as always, better than expected, considering what Hunk had to work with. After washing the bite down with a mouthful of juice, Pidge answered carefully. “Intentionality is more than just interest,”  they explained. “It's about building a bond, forging a _deeper_ connection.”

Hunk blinked, appearing interested, but also puzzled. “Okay,” he said, like he was expecting Pidge to continue.

“That's all,” Pidge said, feeling a trifle miffed. “Take those interests and go _deeper_. Forge a bond, a shared passion.”

Hunk swallowed the bite of musubi in his mouth, making a face. “How?” he asked.

Pidge paused. “I don't…” Shaking their head, Pidge stared at their juice as they swirled it around in their glass a few times. “I haven't exactly had time to road-test the steps myself,” Pidge explained, failing to hide the bitterness in their tone.

Hunk put his musubi down, watching his hands clench and unclench on the table. “It's been a rough few years,” Hunk said softly, glancing up through thick, dark lashes. “Rougher for some of us than others,” he added, almost to himself.

“I didn't come up with the steps,” Pidge whispered softly.

Hunk didn't answer, waiting for Pidge to continue.

“My dad taught them to me,” Pidge explained. “That's how he and my mom…” Pidge sniffled. No, no, _no!_ They couldn't cry! Not in front of someone _else_. They barely cried when they were alone, much less with someone _else_ in the room!

So focused on holding back the tears, it took Pidge a few seconds to realize that Hunk was no longer seated across from them. Their first response was irrational anger. How dare he just cut and run? Tears weren't something to be _afraid_ of! Sure, Pidge wanted to be alone to cry, but Pidge also didn't want to be _abandoned_ just because they cried! It took a few seconds for Pidge to get their anger under control, and it was only then that they  noticed the warm, solid arms slowly encircling them. The heavy odor of grease - from cooking _and_ engines - filled the air around Pidge, along with a sharp cinnamon-like scent that smelled _secure_ and _comforting_.

Pidge wrapped their tiny arms around Hunk’s broad forearms, feeling the press of Hunk’s body at their back, sinking into the warmth of another person holding them tightly. Pidge didn't cry, but one tear managed to escape anyway, trailing down their cheek before dropping onto Hunk’s sleeve, creating a darker spot on the yellow fabric.

They sat like that for a long time, Hunk holding Pidge, Pidge being held. It was nice. Pidge wondered if this position, standing hunched over, hurt Hunk’s back at all, and that was enough to break the spell. Pidge shifted, and Hunk let go, stepping back.

“You know I wouldn't tell just anyone these steps,” Pidge told Hunk softly.

Hunk’s face brightened a little. “I know,” he said.

“I trust you,” Pidge said, trying to express a feeling that couldn't be put into words.

Hunk just smiled, somehow able to understand what Pidge meant without needing to hear another word. Rather than speak, he returned to his seat and scooted aside his two-and-a-half remaining spam musubis. “My mom left when I was ten,” he said simply, looking up from the musubi, his molten chocolate gaze meeting the honey gold of Pidge's. “My dad never talked about her much after that,” Hunk shrugged, like it didn't matter, but Pidge had made the same gesture too many times to see it as anything but what it was, a subtle statement along the lines of ‘ _im still upset but people expect me to move on so im doing my best to seem indifferent’_. “I know it's not the same,” Hunk said quickly, eyes widening, like he was afraid he'd crossed the line from commiseration into comparison.

Pidge knew he hadn't meant it like that, and assured him of the fact. “I know,” Pidge said. “Don't worry.”

For a moment Hunk seemed inclined to worry anyway, then he relaxed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I dunno, I guess what I'm trying to say is…” Hunk gestured with his hands as if trying to express himself without speaking the words aloud. “Childhood memories, those precious moments you cling to, those are…” He looked at Pidge, eyes full and shining with emotion, “Those come from the deepest part of you,” he said, “They mean more than anything else in the whole universe.” He sighed then, but it was an almost-happy sound. “I can't tell you how much it means to me that you would share something so valuable with me.”

“That's exactly why I _can_ share it with you,” Pidge replied, “because you understand how important it is.” _How important to me you are_ , Pidge didn't say. Didn't need to say.

Hunk opened his mouth to say something, but Lance chose that moment to wander into the kitchen, pajama-clad and stretching one arm over his head, his face nearly bisected by a massive yawn. His pajama shirt rode up a little, exposing his stomach and giving the two of them a peek at his bellybutton. “Morning guys,” he said breezily. “What's for breakfast?”

“Spam musubi,” Hunk gestured at the cold storage unit.

Lance wrinkled his nose. “You call that _breakfast?_ ”

“I call that ‘maybe if you got up earlier and made your _own_ breakfast you might have a right to complain about Hunk’s decision,” Pidge snapped. Something about Lance usually raised their hackles, but lately he seemed even _more_ annoying. _I can't believe Hunk fell for_ **him** _of all people_ , Pidge thought, before pausing. _What do you care about that anyway? You should be happy for Hunk, not angry that he chose -ugh- Lance._

Hunk and Lance had shrugged off their sharp comment, and were giggling together about something probably ridiculous while Hunk poured Lance a glass of juice. Lance settled down next to Hunk, touching his arm as he leaned forward to get his attention, and Pidge suddenly felt irrationally jealous.

But why? Why would they care? Unless…

Like tumblers in a lock clicking into place, realization came to Pidge. They were _jealous_. They wanted Hunk to spend more time with _them_. Notice _them_. Try _really unsuccessfully_ to flirt with _them_ (assuming past performance was an indicator of future performance)!

Pidge couldn't believe it. How had it taken them this long to realize something that now seemed painfully obvious? They _liked_ Hunk! It had happened so slowly, not anything like what they thought a crush would be. It hasn't been a dramatic thunderclap of “love at first sight”, but rather a gradual growing fondness, a slow burn rather than a consuming flame.

Suddenly, another thought occurred to Pidge - they _liked_ Hunk… and they'd agreed to help him win the heart of another.  All the air seemed to have been sucked out of the kitchen, and Pidge struggled to breathe in the cold vacuum of horrified realization. They had only just realized how much Hunk meant to them, and they'd already lost him - to _Lance_.

Pidge felt like screaming. Every second that Lance stared deep into Hunk’s eyes felt like an eternity of torment, and suddenly Pidge couldn't bear the thought of being in the same room as them for even _one more second._  Stammering some lame excuse, Pidge fled the kitchen.

Unsurprisingly, Hunk sought Pidge out not too much later, worried that the spam musubi hadn't agreed with them. It hadn't taken him all that long, either. The small paladin had only two-to-three regular haunts for him to check, and Hunk made it his business to know where the people he cared about regularly spent their time. He found the tiny nerd sequestered in an area containing several computer banks, typing away at their programming.

“Pidge?” Hunk hovered a little, by now knowing better than to touch Pidge's equipment without permission.

“What is it, Hunk?” Pidge sounded angry, and Hunk had no idea why that might be.

“I just thought… well, our conversation ended kind of abruptly, and I wanted to make sure there wasn't something else you needed to say,” Hunk explained.

Pidge felt a wave of unreasonable anger. “I have nothing to say. Go talk to _Lance_.”

Hunk stiffened. “Pidge? Is something wrong?”

“Oh no, nothing's wrong,” Pidge lied through gritted teeth, “go use my technique on Lance and win his heart, big guy.”

Hunk froze, knowing the difference between an invitation and a dare. “I won't use your steps if you don't want me to,” he told Pidge. “It's okay if you changed your mind.”

For some reason, his self-sacrificing willingness to put Pidge's feelings ahead of his own just fanned the flames of Pidge's rage.  “I haven't changed my mind,” Pidge almost growled, “but I _might_ if you don't leave me alone!”

Hunk jerked a little, completely blindsided by the way Pidge was treating him. He'd honestly thought they'd been _connecting_ , back there in the kitchen. The thought struck him that perhaps Pidge had revealed more than they'd wanted, and regretted speaking about something so personal.

Hunk moved to touch Pidge, intending to comfort, but he couldn't have picked a worse time if he'd tried.

Pidge jerked back like they'd been burned, whirling around and glaring at Hunk, fire crackling in their gaze. “Go talk to Lance and win his stupid heart!” Pidge shouted, “And _leave me alone!_ ” Pidge shoved Hunk, hard. Of course, between Pidge’s little arms and Hunk’s considerable bulk, it did next to nothing, at least not on a physical level.

Hunk’s face paled and he stepped back, feeling like the blow had forced all the air from his lungs. He knew physically he was fine, but he gaped for a moment, unable to breathe. Pidge stared back at him, shoulders hunched, chest heaving, fists clenched so tightly their knuckles were white.

“I'll just…go, then,” he said weakly. “If you need anything, anything at all…”

Pidge almost screamed. _Stop being so goddamn nice, Hunk! Get_ **_out_ ** _!_ “Go. Talk. To. Lance.”

Hunk fled. The minute he left, Pidge felt a flood of regret. Hunk had done literally _nothing_ to deserve that. He'd only been trying to help, Pidge realized miserably, turning back to the computer panel, burying their head in their arms. He was being a good friend, and that had been the problem, hadn't it? Hunk was being a good friend. He'd _always_ been a good friend. Close, but not as close as he was with Lance. It had taken this long for them to realize, the reason they were so willing to open up to Hunk, the reason his smile felt like the sun breaking through stormclouds… Pidge _really_ liked Hunk. They couldn't quite get out the more honest L-word, feeling if they admitted to that much, it just might break them. And even worse was the whole Lance situation. Pidge didn't know what to do. They'd _promised_ to help Hunk, and couldn't stand the thought of abandoning Hunk when he was counting on them. At the same time, the thought of helping Hunk end up with _anyone_ else (but especially Lance) made them feel queasy.

Still, Pidge realized, head resting on their arms, eyes clamped shut to hold back the tears threatening to fall, Hunk _deserved_ everything he could ever dream of and more, no matter how unhappy that might make Pidge. They wanted to see Hunk smile, to fall in love, to be _happy_. If that meant swallowing down all the words dancing on their tongue, the thousand reasons why Hunk and Pidge _belonged_ together, then so be it.

Pidge wanted Hunk, but they would do whatever it took to ensure his happiness. Even if it cost Pidge their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL THINGS ARE HEATING UP IN THIS HERE FIC. Sorry this chapter took longer to put out than the previous ones (especially considering how short it is...), hopefully I'll be able to get back in the swing of things shortly.  
> Let me know what you think of this chapter, how you feel about Hunk and Pidge in general, or even just complain about the weather, I'd love to hear from you! As always, thanks for reading!


	4. Step Three: Be Generous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge is trying so hard to ignore their feelings. It doesn't seem to be working...

Nearly two days passed before Pidge sought out Hunk’s company. He'd been watching them, worry plastered all over his face, but Pidge had intentionally snubbed him. They felt a little bad about that, it wasn't Hunk’s fault that he'd fallen in love with the wrong person. Still, they were bitter and petty, and Pidge was a world class grudge-holder. If it had been anyone else, Pidge could have held out for _weeks,_ maybe even _months_. But it was Hunk, and he looked so distraught that Pidge couldn't leave him hanging. Besides, Pidge had _decided_ to do the right thing and keep helping him, so they had to talk to him eventually.

Hunk looked nervous but also relieved. “Can we talk?” he asked softly, “about what happened?”

“It's not going to be a problem,” Pidge assured Hunk, but for whatever reason this did not appear to assuage his doubts.

“I want to know what happened,” Hunk insisted. “Was it something I said or did?”

“No, it was my own head space screwing with me,” Pidge finally said. “It has nothing to do with anything you said or did, so please let me keep the details private.”

Hunk nodded slowly. “If I ever hurt you though, you'll tell me?” he sounded worried. ”I never want to hurt you.”

The way he said it sent shivers down Pidge's spine, and for a moment the anger flared up again. _How dare he love Lance and not me-!_ With some effort, Pidge forced it down. “I'll tell you,” Pidge assured him. “Now, are you ready for step three?”

Hunk blinked hard. “Am I- what? Pidge, I thought we were talking about _you_.”

“Yes, well, enough about me, let's talk about you and Lance.” The cheery voice Pidge used sounded entirely too forced, and Hunk looked like he wanted to say something more, so Pidge added in an undertone, “Just _leave it,_ Hunk.”

Not wanting a repeat of their earlier disagreement, Hunk nodded. “Well, I mean, I did what I could, but I don't think I was very successful,” Hunk admitted. “I don't think I'm very good at being intentional.”

Pidge narrowed one eye. “Did you even _try_?”

Hunk squeaked. “I might have been a tad, uh, distracted?”

Pidge sighed. “Did you bond?”

“I thought we were bonding,” Hunk said quietly, “but maybe I was reading into things too much.”

Pidge sighed. “All right then, step three. Be generous.”

Hunk seemed to be waiting for more details. “And?”

“Be generous,” Pidge repeated, slowly. “Shower them with gifts, time, compliments…”

“Wait, wait, hold on. Time? Compliments?” Hunk sounded thoroughly baffled by this. “What for?”

“Which matters more to you? a gift, or someone making time for you in their busy schedule? A physical object? or a genuine, well-thought-out compliment?”

Hunk was nodding slowly. “You make a good point.” He made a face. “Do I just walk up like ‘hi there you're very attractive and when I see you it makes me happy’ or…?”

What Pidge wouldn't have given to have Hunk say those very words to them. “Well,” Pidge said, once they'd slowed their heartbeat to a respectable rate, “That's  _one_ way, I guess.”

“Well what's _another_ way?” Hunk almost whined. “I told you; I'm really bad at this.”

It was selfish. It was manipulative. It was _perfect_. “You could practice on me,” Pidge said in a far away voice, not believing for _one second_ that it would work.

To their surprise, Hunk looked relieved at the suggestion. “Wow yeah, actually, that would help a lot. Going over things with you always makes me feel better about them,” Hunk explained, “You know just how to address situations, and you're better at picking out the most likely scenario from a string of worst-case scenarios.” He huffed a little, glancing from side-to-side nervously. “Okay. Um. Let's see. Uh. Do you… want to grab a snack together?”

Pidge blinked, reeling from Hunk’s first wave of compliments. Or was that just Hunk being Hunk? Everything felt like it had the potential to be flirtation when you were falling head-over-heels for the person speaking. “…What?”

Hunk slapped a hand to his face. “Oh, I've already failed five seconds into this, what was I even _thinking_ , who even invites someone out for a _snack_?”

“Hunk!” Pidge wasn't sure whether to laugh or shake their head. “A snack sounds _great,_ let's go.”

Hunk dropped his hand. “Oh… really?”

“Really,” Pidge agreed.

“Oh good,” Hunk said faintly, adding in an undertone, “I don't think I'm very good at this.”

“You're adorable and Lance would be an idiot to settle for anyone else,” Pidge told him, already heading for the door. Hunk didn't answer, and when Pidge looked back at him he was staring at them like they were the moon and the stars.

“You mean that?” he asked hesitantly.

“Which part? Lance being an idiot? definitely.” Pidge tried for some humor.

“I just…” Hunk rubbed at the back of his neck, staring down the hall rather than looking Pidge in the eye. “I don't know, y'know?” he sighed. “I mean,” he turned to look at Pidge. “I've only ever been on a few dates, never a serious relationship, and I guess I just worry…” Hunk had curled in on himself slightly, broad shoulders hunched, arms curled around himself in a loose hug. “What if I'm not good enough?” he whispered. “What if I'm… y'know, what if the person I really like thinks I'm gross.” He couldn't even bring himself to look at Pidge.

Pidge wanted to destroy every single person who had ever made Hunk feel inadequate. “Hunk, you're incredible,” Pidge said softly. “I can't say that _anyone_ would have you, because that's not how love works. But I think you're a lot more of a catch than you seem to believe.”

“Yeah, well, I only have to be a catch to _one_ person or it's useless to me,” Hunk reminded Pidge.

Pidge did not need reminding that how they felt about Hunk made little to no difference to him. “Fair,” they replied through gritted teeth.

Hunk laughed awkwardly. “To the kitchen?” he suggested.

“Lead the way,” Pidge said with a sweeping gesture.

“So,” Hunk said carefully as they walked towards the kitchen, “I'm not great at what you might call traditional gifts,” he began, “but you definitely deserve the best.”

_This is practice?_ Pidge thought faintly. _How has Lance not thrown himself at Hunk’s feet already?_

“So I was thinking,” Hunk continued, blissfully unaware of Pidge’s internal struggle, “What if I _make_ something for you?”

Pidge felt their heart stop for a brief moment. “Like what?” they managed, their voice coming out in an almost-croak. This was too good. Too much. Pidge was in so deep they would never see the sun again.

“Do you have a sweet tooth?” Hunk was asking. “I know plenty of main dishes, but I consider baked goods like cakes and cookies a personal specialty.”

“I miss brownies,” Pidge heard someone say, and realized that they had been the one speaking. Something about this didn't feel real, and even though they _knew_ this was ‘just practice,’ they felt giddy and nervous. _Maybe you can win him over on a fake date!_ A traitorous part of them whispered in the back of their mind. _Maybe you should try the steps on_ him _!_ Pidge tried to chase the idea away, but once the idea had been planted it seemed to have taken root almost immediately. Pidge couldn't dismiss the thought no matter how hard they tried. _He's already in love with someone else!_ Pidge thought desperately. _So you've got your work cut out for you_ , they thought back. _You've faced greater odds_. Pidge was about to respond to that when they realized Hunk had stopped in the middle of the hall.

“Are you sure you're okay?” He asked, a look of concern crossing his face.

“I'm fine,” Pidge answered quickly, “Just… preoccupied.”

“We can do this another time,” Hunk offered kindly. “I'm in no rush.”

“No!” Pidge said, almost too quickly. “I like spending time with you,” they added in a softer tone.

Hunk's face burned. “Oh,” he said ineloquently. “Well, okay then, brownies it is.”

* * *

After an ill-timed food fight that nearly led to the destruction of Hunk's painstakingly crafted brownie batter, the confectionery was safely in the oven, and Hunk reclined against the counter, torso dusted with flour and dotted with the occasional spot of chocolate batter.

Pidge sat on a stool, also leaning on the counter. They had brownie batter in their hair and flour everywhere. They had a smudge of batter on their right cheek.

Hunk was grinning and panting slightly. “I can honestly say that was _the most_ exciting batch of brownies I've ever made,” he said after a moment, “And that includes the one time my oven caught fire.”

“Why did your oven-?” Pidge began, but Hunk held up a hand.

“It's better you don't ask,” he said with a grimace, “but it involved a small mix-up between an expensive solvent and pure vanilla extract. _Never_ leave your school supplies in the kitchen cupboard over summer vacation.”

Pidge giggled a little, and Hunk grinned in response before his gaze refocused on Pidge's face. “You've got a spot there,” he said, leaning forward, hand cupping Pidge’s cheek for a moment as he wiped his thumb over the spot. He brought the digit back to his mouth and licked the batter off with a small smile.

Pidge was blushing so hard they thought their head might explode. How could he do something so _intimate_ with such ease? Pidge envied that Hunk could be so comfortably physical with his friends. Pidge wasn't even good at _hugs_ , much less whatever _that_ had been.

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, and Hunk seemed to realize what he'd just done, his face gradually getting redder and redder.  

Pidge was just about to say something to break the awkward silence when the oven timer chimed.

“...brownies are ready,” Hunk said faintly.

“...Yeah,” Pidge said.

Hunk opened the oven door and a truly heavenly smell escaped, wafting through the air and tantalizing the senses. Pidge suddenly felt _very_ hungry. “You're a miracle worker, Hunk,” Pidge declared.

“Reserve your judgement until you've tasted them,” Hunk warned, face split in two by a massive grin.

He pried two fresh brownies from the pan, and Pidge marveled at how un-chocolate-like the color purple was. They'd found a kind of cacao-like plant at some point in their travels, but the cocoa produced turned out a kind of bright fuschia. Pidge was still getting used to it.

Hunk grinned. “Well? Dig in.”

Pidge did, and was  _not_ disappointed. “This is heavenly,” they told Hunk with a sigh.

Hunk hadn't even eaten his yet, watching Pidge's face carefully. “You mean it?” he asked.

“Mmm,” Pidge answered, mouth full. They swallowed and tried again. “It's like a molten lava cake in semi-solid form, the perfect blend of chewy and cake, it's rich and chocolatey and everything you could ever hope for a brownie to be.”

Hunk slumped a little in relief. “Oh good,” he said, “I was worried you wouldn't like it.”

Pidge shook their head. “It's great!”

“Well, good,” Hunk said lamely. “You deserve it.”

Pidge blinked. “What?”

“You're always helping me, you listen to me, you even let me touch your equipment - well, sometimes,” Hunk amended the last bit. “Your friendship - you -  mean the world to me, Pidge, and I never want to lose this. Or you.”

Pidge was glowing with the words he'd spoken. “Wow,” was all they could manage. A smaller part of them balked at the word ‘friendship,’ they wanted to be _more_ than friends! But regardless of the exact nature of their relationship with Hunk, there was no question that they were pleased with his words of praise.

That small part of them was back, whispering about how Hunk probably said even more thoughtful and heartfelt things to Lance, that there was no _way_ , with how those two carried on, that the relationship would fail. Pidge knew they would be stuck on the sidelines, and they _knew_ that no matter what Hunk said now, once he and Lance were dating, he _would_ forget all about Pidge. And that hurt.

“Pidge?” Hunk scooted his brownie aside. “What is it?”

“Oh you know, just trapping myself in an internal dialogue,” Pidge said weakly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Hunk asked carefully, still wary after how things had gone down last time.

“Not yet,” Pidge said. _Not ever,_ they added internally.

Hunk picked at his brownie. “Well… now what?”

Pidge blinked. “Now what _what_?”

“I gave you a brownie, and I think I complimented you on your brownie-batter-tossing skills, and we spent time together,” Hunk said. “Is that it? What now?”

Pidge felt their insides wither. That's right, this was all just _practice_ to Hunk, a way to prepare for the real event with Lance. “I don't know,” Pidge said weakly.

“...Oh,” Hunk seemed to deflate a little. “...well, you could give me something!” he suggested.

Pidge gave him a look. “...like what?”

“…practice the _next_ step with me too?” Hunk asked. “I could use the help.”

This was going to _kill_ Pidge. There was no way their heart could take it.

“Sure,” Pidge answered, clamping down on their emotions. They _would_ be a good friend to Hunk. Even if this felt like more than mere friendship. Even if they _wanted_ more than friendship. They could do this. They _had_ to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone! I hit a bit of a speed bump in terms of production for this fic and my other current WIP "Smells Like Team Spirit", so this may be a bit slow.  
> On a more exciting note, you may notice that I have an official projection for the number of chapters that will be in this fic, and yes, it is nearing completion. Thank you all for reading, and I hope you'll stick with it until the end! :D  
> If you would like to see a truly terrible drawing of the post-food-fight scene, consisting mostly of an unref'd drawing of pidge whose hair was drawn SO WRONG, you can check it out [here](http://vulcan-highblood.tumblr.com/post/150078293116/note-to-self-do-not-draw-paladins-without) on my tumblr...  
> As always, thanks so much for reading!


	5. Step Four: Listen and Connect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things inevitably fall apart when you try to bury your emotions. People get hurt. Especially you.

Hunk surprised Pidge by being up early and having a pile of french toast ready for them when they dragged into the kitchen three hours earlier than they _wanted_ to be awake.

“Oh wow,” Pidge said. French toast was their _favorite_. Did Hunk know that? They looked at his face, but his features held no answers, only a bright smile and a hum of excited energy about him. “You made this?” they asked. They were not exactly at top form in the morning; not before a hefty dose of caffeine, anyway.

“Yeah,” Hunk said brightly. “You seemed kinda down yesterday, so I thought you might like a little something special.” He scooted a plate with two slices of french toast in front of Pidge, and followed it up with a mug of steaming caffeinated bean brew and a small pitcher of homemade fruit syrup. Exactly how early had Hunk gotten up this morning to be able to make all of this?

“Wow,” Pidge said again, because they still hadn't gotten any caffeine and no other words seemed to be forthcoming. “Thanks,” they managed, sipping at the hot, bright blue “coffee.”  They drizzled some fruit syrup over the french toast and took a bite. It was heavenly. “Did you bake the bread?” Pidge asked, surprised that he'd just happened to have bread on hand.

“Oh yeah, Lance helped me bake it last night,” Hunk said, and Pidge's good mood quickly plummeted. Of _course_. Spending quality time together. Connecting. While Pidge had been throwing a pity party, Hunk had been making steady progress towards winning Lance’s heart.

“That's...great.” Pidge couldn't even try to be enthusiastic. They would blame it on the lack of caffeine, it was a convenient excuse. “So how did things go?”

Hunk’s excitement seemed to wane a bit. “I couldn't tell how the gift was received,” he said, “So, okay? I guess? No real change,” he finished, shoulders slumping slightly.

“I'm sorry to hear that,” Pidge said, secretly cheering. Maybe Lance didn't want Hunk! They might have a fighting chance after all!

Hunk scrubbed at his face wearily. “Could I maybe skip to the next step anyway?” he asked. “I’m hoping it will be something I’m actually good at for once.”

“You did great in practice yesterday,” Pidge said encouragingly. “I thought you did a _great_ job. I had a lot of fun!”

Hunk brightened considerably at this. “You did?”

“Of course I did!” Pidge insisted. “How could I _not_? You made me brownies.”

“It's not like it was _that_ special,” Hunk protested.

“It was to _me,_ ” Pidge shot back.

Whatever Hunk had been about to say died on his lips. “...it was?”

“Yes, and just because Lance didn't appreciate the gesture doesn't mean I don't,” Pidge said, not bothering to mask the bitterness in their tone.

“I don't see what Lance has to do with this,” Hunk grumbled, and Pidge wanted to scream _He's the one you've been doing all this for, of_ course _it has to be about him!_

“Anyway,” Pidge said after several seconds of sullen silence from both parties, “Step four is to listen.”

Hunk blinked. “Really?”

Pidge nodded.

“Isn't that exactly like the other steps?” Hunk looked worried. “I was kind of hoping for a game changer.”

“Listening _is_ a game changer,” Pidge insisted. “Listen to their needs, their wants, their _heart_. Listening is easy, but also incredibly difficult. Because, unlike the other steps, it's not about you.”

Hunk considered that for a moment. “Okay,” he said mildly, and then, “how?”

Pidge almost spat their coffee everywhere. “How _what_?”

“How do I do it?” Hunk asked.

“You _listen_ ,” Pidge said exasperatedly.

“Listen to _what?_ ” Hunk seemed determined to annoy Pidge with completely ridiculous questions.

“I don't know, everything!” Pidge answered.

“What kind of questions do I ask? What if the person won't even talk to me?”

“I. Don't. Know.” Pidge growled.   _Maybe you should have thought of that_ before  _you fell for Lance._

Hunk gestured helplessly. “What if we practiced again?” he asked, but Pidge was done being charitable.

“How about you go talk to Lance and stop being such a coward?” Pidge snapped. “God, it's like you can't do _anything_ by yourself. Do you have any idea how _pathetic_ you sound?”

Hunk didn't move, didn't blink, didn't breathe. The words Pidge had spoken seemed to fill the air, a cold chill settling over the two of them. Finally, Hunk turned away. “Well,” he said gruffly, voice just shy of breaking, “If that's how you really feel…”

Pidge felt like the room was tilting. “Wait, Hunk, I didn't-”

“It’s okay, Pidge,” Hunk said with a resignation that communicated exactly the opposite. “I was _listening_.” He walked out of the kitchen, leaving Pidge to stare down at their french toast.

Pidge wasn't hungry anymore.

* * *

Surprisingly, it wasn't Hunk who found Pidge tucked away in a seldom-used computer room, but Lance. He burst in with all the grace and poise of a stampeding water buffalo.

“Pidge!” he trumpeted, “There you are!”

Pidge looked up, glaring at Lance just long enough to make it clear he was not welcome before turning back to what they'd been working on.

“Look,” Lance said, sitting down next to Pidge, completely ignoring Pidge’s obvious desire that he not be anywhere near them. “I don't know what's going on,” he began, and Pidge was _done_ hearing from him.

“Then maybe you should back off,” Pidge hissed.

“Hunk is bummed, you seem pretty upset, honestly it's a big mess,” Lance continued. “I've been thinking, but I can't figure out what's wrong. Hunk thinks you're in love with me.” Lance added, somewhat blasé. “I mean, I believe it, I am quite the catch.”

Pidge rolled their eyes, still saying nothing. The silence dragged, and Lance chuckled weakly before continuing.  

“Aaaanyway, I figured I should at least come and make sure there wasn't actually something else going on.” Lance looked at Pidge, eyes calculating. “You know, Hunk was ready to drop everything, but I told him he needed to hear it from the horse’s mouth before he just gave up.”

Pidge didn't want to know that Hunk was willing to stop pursuing Lance if it meant preserving their friendship. It wasn't fair! Hunk was so good, and Pidge was just bitter and broken-hearted. “Just friends” wasn't going to be enough for Pidge, and yet Hunk was offering to not only remain “just friends” with Lance, he was willing to give it up despite Lance apparently being favorable to the idea of dating Hunk. Lance was here to get Pidge’s _permission_. Lance was asking _Pidge_ if he could date Hunk and that was the most self-centered situation Pidge had ever manufactured and it hadn't even been intentional!

“Pidge?” Lance said hesitantly. “I kinda need an answer.”

“You better appreciate him,” Pidge said darkly. “He's so much better than you deserve, better than I deserve, better than _anyone_ deserves.”

Lance blinked. “Ooo-Kaaay,” he said slowly. “I'm not sure what you mean by that, but I agree, Hunk is pretty awesome. But...do you like _me_?”

Pidge glared at Lance. “I barely tolerate you, Lance, I would never go so far as to say I _liked_ you.” They knew, on some level, that this was code for a go-ahead. That telling Lance they weren't interested in him was just a roundabout way of assuring Lance that there was no barrier between him and Hunk.

Lance nodded serenely, rising to leave, but Pidge had one last thing to say.

“Don't-” Pidge swallowed hard. “Don't hurt him?”

“I wasn't planning on it,” Lance said, mostly bluster but there was a glimmer of real emotion simmering behind the words. “trust me,” he added softly, and despite Pidge's many misgivings, they did. God help them, they did trust Lance to be good for Hunk, probably in ways that they couldn't be. And it hurt, it burned, as Lance walked away, whistling an unfamiliar tune. Pidge curled up in their chair and cried until there were no more tears left, then drifted off into a fitful slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand the angst continues...  
> I had way too much fun writing Lance, poor boy is completely baffled by the whole proceedings. Sorry this chapter took so long to go up, I lost track of time, oops.  
> Rest assured, this _will_ have a happy ending, so thanks for sticking with the angst so far! As always, if you leave a comment, I will happily respond to anything you have to say! :D


	6. Step Five: Confess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, communication!

Pidge woke feeling cramped, their right foot and left arm waking even more slowly, all pins and needles after being cramped into an uncomfortable position for far too long. But the discomfort was nothing compared to the deep ache in Pidge’s chest, more powerful than any physical wound.

Pidge hated this, but more than anything they hated the thought of what came next. The final step, and then this would all be over and Pidge would be left alone and heartbroken yet again. This was just one more abandonment in a string of desertions. Their life seemed full of people who seemed determined to leave them behind. Pidge knew, they knew they were being melodramatic, but lost love seemed to be one of those cases where one could allow for at least a little melodrama.

Having come to the conclusion that a little melodrama never hurt anyone, Pidge flopped around in their chair a bit, preferring to mope a bit longer. They might have stayed like that all day except that someone knocked on the door.

“Pidge?” Of course it was Hunk. Who else could it be?

“Go away,” Pidge said miserably, milking the melodrama for all it was worth.

“Can we talk?” Hunk asked softly from the other side of the door.

“What is there to talk about?” Pidge lamented.

“Well,” Hunk said cautiously, voice muffled by the door between them, “You said there were _five_ steps?”

Pidge wanted to rip their hair out. “Yes,” Pidge managed through gritted teeth.

“You said the last step was confession, right?” Hunk sounded nervous, and why wouldn't he? Pidge had practically bitten his head off the last time he'd asked a question.

“Yeah,” Pidge said, feeling like a five-pound weight had settled onto their chest. “That's it.”

“That's it?” Hunk repeated. “Just...confess?”

“That's it,” Pidge said wearily.

“Okay,” Hunk said, and was silent for so long Pidge half-thought he'd gone off to officially confess to Lance. “Hey, Pidge?” he said, half-whispering so they had to strain their ears to hear.

“Yes?” Pidge replied, their voice unconsciously pitching softer to match Hunk's tone.

“Are you mad at me?” Hunk's voice was so small Pidge could barely hear him.

“No,” Pidge answered, “although I’m sure it seems that way.”

Hunk let out a deep sigh of relief. “Okay,” he said. “Do you mind if I ask what's wrong?”

Pidge closed their eyes, opened their mouth, and stopped. They couldn't. Not at the expense of Hunk’s happiness. “I can't tell you yet,” they whispered.

“Is it Lance?” Hunk whispered back. “Are you mad at me because I-”

“For the last time, Hunk, I'm not _mad_ at you!” Pidge shouted, sitting up straight, clenching their fists. “I'm in _love_ with you!”

The door whooshed open. “You're _what_?” Hunk’s voice sounded strained.

“Oh my god,” Pidge covered their face, unable to look at him. How was it even possible to be _so incredibly stupid?_ “Just ignore that, okay? Go talk to Lance and forget I said anything.”

“Pidge,” Hunk said, voice gentle, as though he were cupping a baby bird in its warm timbre.

“I don't-” Pidge's voice broke and they had to start again. “I don't want your pity,” they whispered brokenly. “I want you to be happy.”

“Pidge,” Hunk said again, but this time his voice was firm. “You're not responsible for my happiness.”

“And _you’re_ not responsible for mine!” Pidge shouted suddenly, jumping to their feet, fists clenched at their sides, shoulders heaving with each breath. “Stop _worrying_ about how I feel and just _confess to Lance!_ I'll get over it!” Pidge’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I don't want you to miss out on something great because of me.”

“I never said it was Lance,” Hunk said then, sounding exasperated. “It's _never_ been Lance.”

Pidge looked up, suddenly very confused. “What do you mean?"

"I didn't use the steps on Lance," Hunk continued.

Pidge blinked once, twice, "Then who…?”

“It’s _you_ , Pidge! It was always you! It's always _been_ you!” Hunk gestured widely with his arms. “I never even wanted to use the steps on Lance! I was only ever interested in _you_!”

Pidge opened their mouth to say something, and found they were completely at a loss for words. That worked out just fine though, because Hunk wasn't finished.

 

“You were the one who _assumed_ it was Lance, and yeah, I probably should have cleared that up, that’s on me, but _Pidge_ ,” Hunk swooped in and suddenly his large hands were braced on the desk behind them, his broad forearms and solid biceps on either side of Pidge, who was leaning backwards to accommodate the sudden invasion of their personal space. “The only person I was _ever_ using the steps on was _you_.”

Pidge blinked rapidly. Hunk was _right there_ , his breath ghosting over Pidge’s nose, and the room seemed to be spinning. This was all too much. It had to be a dream. As the moments stretched into seconds, Hunk's brown eyes gazing deep into their own, Pidge began to realize that this was, in fact, really happening.

“Oh,” Pidge finally managed. Hunk didn't move.

“I love you, Pidge.” He said. “And honestly this was one of the _worst_ weeks of my life.”

Pidge couldn't say anything, so they nodded jerkily to show they were listening.

“We fought a lot,” Hunk said. “You seemed so fixated on Lance; I started to worry that you liked him.”

“He's barely tolerable,” Pidge whispered, finding their voice long enough to express the sentiment.

Hunk chuckled at that, his breath gusting across Pidge's cheeks. His face fell then. “I seemed to be doing it all wrong. You didn't seem to be enjoying anything I did,” he said. “And then you started picking fights with me.” His voice quivered slightly. “I was so scared, Pidge. I thought you hated me.”

“I could never,” Pidge protested.

Hunk smiled a little at that. “I've decided enough is enough,” he said. “And it's time to move on to step five.”

“I mean, you technically confessed at the beginning of this monologue,” Pidge said.

Hunk ignored this, leaning forward until their foreheads touched, noses brushing. “Pidge,” he said, a deep rumble to his voice that made Pidge’s knees weak. “Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?”

Pidge couldn't answer, eyes wide as saucers. Hunk's bangs brushed lightly against  their face.  The warmth of his arms, braced on either side of Pidge, was no match for the burning of their cheeks.

“When you smile, it makes my whole day better,” Hunk continued in a near-whisper. “I can't imagine a life without you anymore. I love your eyes, your hair, the way you wrinkle your nose when you can't solve a problem, the way you roll your eyes when something ridiculous happens.”

A part of Pidge _still_ wasn't convinced this wasn't a dream.

“I love how _focused_ and _driven_ you can be, how viciously you'll fight to protect the people you care about. I love how smart you are, I’m constantly amazed by what you know and what you can do.” Hunk took a deep breath. “Pidge, I love you. I love you so much it _hurts_ , sometimes. I want to be with you. I want you to be a part of my life. I want you. _I love you_.”

Pidge couldn't breathe.

“I'm going to kiss you now, unless you have any objections,” Hunk said solemnly.

Pidge had no objections.

Softly, gently, like a butterfly alighting on a delicate flower, Hunk's lips captured Pidge’s in a chaste kiss. He pulled away just seconds later, arms beginning to pull back, and Pidge realized they didn't want him to go - not yet! Without thinking, they reached up, running their fingers into Hunk’s hair, looping their arms around his neck, tugging him back down for another kiss. It was awkward, Pidge hadn't kissed anyone like this before and Hunk was pretty rusty. They gave it a good shot anyway, Hunk's arms coming down to encircle Pidge’s waist and tug them flush against him. Pidge wanted to keep doing this forever, but air. Air was necessary to human survival, and they broke apart, gasping for breath. Pidge caught theirs first, and took the opportunity to find their voice.

“I love you too, Hunk. I didn't realize how much until I thought I'd lost you.” Pidge felt tears welling up in their eyes, they _hated_ being so emotional, but they couldn't seem to stop it. “Do you know how hard it is? To try and help the person you love capture the heart of another?” Pidge's voice broke, but they persisted. “I love you _so much_ Hunk. I wanted you to be happy, I love you so much I was willing to let you go.”

Hunk was watching them closely, his eyes shining with sympathetic tears. He said nothing, allowing Pidge to continue.

“But I wanted you to notice _me_ , pursue _me_ ! I wanted you to hold me in your arms, let me hold onto you and _smell_ you, to look into your eyes and hear your voice and know that you would _always_ be there for me. I couldn't stand the thought of you waking up next to anyone else, there's no one I'd rather share my life with, Hunk, _I love you_.”

“Well then,” Hunk replied softly, voice roughened by emotion, “I'm yours.” He scooped Pidge up in his arms, tugging them into a tight embrace. Pidge clung to Hunk, shaking with emotion.

“This didn't have to be so hard,” they murmured into Hunk's shoulder.

“Sorry? I didn't catch that,” Hunk said softly, lowering Pidge to the ground.

“This would have been a lot easier if one of us had just _said something,_ ” Pidge told him.

Hunk laughed sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck. “Yeah, it definitely would have.”

“I want us to be able to be more honest with each other in the future,” Pidge said.

“Okay,” Hunk agreed. “Let's be honest, then.”

“All right then, to be honest…” Pidge said, and their hesitation made Hunk glance at them with concern. “Do you think we could... maybe… try kissing again?”

“Honestly?” Hunk replied, a smile creeping across his features, lighting his eyes with a joy that Pidge wanted to see there always, “I'd like that very much.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (In the end, Pidge didn't leave that computer room for a very long time. They weren't too upset about it, though.)
> 
> ~~*~~
> 
> Wow you guys, it's been a wild ride from start to finish. I'm so grateful for everyone who stuck with this fic (also some of you I'm very worried about bc you seem so distraught prior to reading this fic and while I'm glad it brightens your day I want your day to be bright regardless of a fanfic status... >.> r u ok?)!
> 
> I really loved writing this and I cannot express how much your support and feedback means to me. This is the end, there is no epilogue, and as far as I know there are no plans to write a sequel. If someone would like to write a spin-off fic, you're more than welcome to, just tell me so I can go read it and gush appropriately. (same goes for fanart, if anyone should feel so inclined...)
> 
> Again, I appreciate every one of my readers so much, thank you for sticking with me through this fic. Until next time!


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